The Counterfeit Betrothal

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by April Kihlstrom


  “I see,” Emmaline said thoughtfully. “And yet you told me to accept him.”

  “I told you to do as your heart bid you. This changes nothing,” Osbert protested angrily. “Some of the best marriages are arranged. Your mother’s and mine was. And Jeremy did agree to it without, I thought, any evidence of distaste.”

  “So he did,” Emmaline conceded with a complaisance that made her father wary. “As did I.”

  “Please give the notion a chance,” Sir Osbert begged her. “I want very much to see you settled before I die, and it’s no use telling me I won’t die soon. For all the nonsense that fool of a doctor tells me, I know the truth.”

  For a long moment Emmaline was silent. “Very well,” she said at last, hiding her disquiet, “I shall give it a chance.”

  “Good!” Osbert said emphatically. “That is all I ask. Now have them send up my lunch.”

  “Of course, Papa,” she said as she kissed his brow. Then, very thoughtful, she went to do as he had bid.

  * * *

  It would be too much to say that Jeremy Barnett was pleased with the situation in which he found himself, but he was determined to make the best of it. To his delight he discovered that Miss Delwyn possessed far more sensible conversation than most of the chits he had met in London. He had forgotten the fine mind that had listened to and grasped all the things he had explained to her when they were both children. True, she leaned toward a self-assurance that led her often to disagree with him, but that was a welcome relief from young ladies who echoed everything he said, and should it become bothersome, surely such contrariness could be altered in time. Moreover, now that she had accepted his proposal, Miss Delwyn expended far more thought and energy upon her appearance. All in all, he thought she would do. If he had to marry.

  So Jeremy sent the announcement of his betrothal to the London papers and tried to ignore the panic that threatened, from time to time, to overwhelm him. Scarcely to his surprise, within the week his best friend, Edward Hastings, appeared on his doorstep. He arrived as Jeremy was about to climb into his own curricle to take Emmaline out for a drive. Instead, Jeremy watched the phaeton pulled by two neatly matched grays draw to a halt at the front steps of Barnett Hall. “Edward!” he cried as he went to meet his friend. “How delightful to see you, you old devil!”

  Hastings handed the reins over to his diminutive tiger and then raised his quizzing glass in a gesture more foppish than any Jeremy had ever adopted. After regarding his good friend for several seconds and noting the twinkle in Jeremy’s eyes, he drawled, “Odd, you don’t look as though you have taken leave of your senses.”

  “I have not,” Jeremy replied cheerfully.

  “Then what,” Hastings demanded, “is the meaning of that absurd notice in the Gazette?”

  “Ah, that.” Jeremy nodded wisely. “I am getting married.”

  Hastings appeared to stagger. “So I was right: you have taken leave of your senses.”

  Jeremy laughed. “No, I have not, as I will prove to you shortly. In fact, why don’t you come with me and meet Emmaline? Hargraves can take care of your luggage.”

  “Very well,” Hastings said with a deep sigh. “If I must meet this creature, I must.”

  Jeremy only laughed again and steered his friend to the curricle. “I shan’t be needing you after all,” he told his groom. “Stand away from their heads.” As the groom stepped back, the chestnuts pulled neatly away down the drive and Jeremy began to explain. “Now mind, Edward, I’ve no desire for anyone else to know what I’m about to tell you. That wouldn’t look good for either Emmaline or me. But you may as well know the truth. M’father called me home, as I told you in London he had, and as we suspected, he had heard about that bit at Covent Gardens. Well, when I arrived, m’father informed me that either I marry—at once—or he intended to cut off my allowance. Not diminish it, mind you, but cut it off entirely and make it difficult for me to go to the penny-a-pound men for a loan.”

  “You were in a bind,” Hastings agreed sympathetically, all trace of affectation gone now. “And Miss, er, Delwyn is to be the blushing bride? How did they compel her to agree? Has she a squint or something?”

  Jeremy laughed uncomfortably. “Nothing of the sort. We have known one another for years, and like her father, she has had an affection for me, I suppose.”

  “I see. So all is bliss?” Hastings suggested.

  “Not precisely,” Jeremy said after a moment’s hesitation.

  “What is it?” Edward asked quietly. “Is she vulgar? Or something of a peagoose with not two thoughts to rub together in her head?”

  There was a longer hesitation this time before Jeremy replied. “On the contrary. Emmaline is exceedingly well bred. And intelligent. She can converse on any subject you might choose and has a great deal of common sense.”

  “Say no more,” Hastings said in a tone of mock horror. “She sounds appalling.”

  Irritably Jeremy replied, “Oh, do give over your nonsense, Edward. She is nothing of the sort. In fact, I wager you will like her quite well. I like her quite well.”

  “Then what is the problem?” Hastings asked.

  “I’m not certain I wish to be married at all!” Jeremy blurted out. “In fact, I am quite certain I don’t.”

  “Then why did you propose?” Edward asked reasonably.

  “Because I thought she would be a timid mouse of a thing, given that she has meekly spend the last several years nursing her father, and I could set her up at Barnett Hall while I went up to London anytime I wished,” Jeremy said in exasperation. “And anyway my father’s threats left me little choice. Would you care to have tried to name a respectable young lady of our acquaintance I could have chosen instead?”

  “No,” Hastings agreed dryly.

  “Unfortunately, now I find that I don’t think it will do. Dash it all, this would have to be a real marriage!” Jeremy replied gloomily. “And I doubt very much I am ready for that.”

  “Do you mean to back out?” Hastings asked carefully. “It is all the fashion, what with Lady Charlotte renouncing the Prince of Orange.”

  “Yes, and look at her father’s reaction to that! Threatening to make her a virtual prisoner if what I hear is to be believed,” Jeremy countered. “No,” he said decisively. “I cannot forget that m’father’s threat still hangs over my head. Besides, I am not such a blackguard as to serve Miss Delwyn a turn like that.”

  “My dear boy,” Hastings said, resuming his affectation, “I feel for you!”

  5

  Jeremy and Edward soon arrived at Sir Osbert’s home. As they climbed down from the curricle Hastings looked about him approvingly and said, “So the girl does not come penniless by the looks of this place. Has she any sisters?”

  “Both married,” Jeremy said witheringly, “and sharp-tongued into the bargain.”

  “Just as well,” Hastings said philosophically. “Someone must maintain the torch of bachelorhood, but rest assured I shall lend you support at your wedding.”

  “How kind of you,” Jeremy retorted with spirit. “But have a care or I’ll take my revenge by finding you a wife as well. Aye, and betroth you to her before you or she knows what you are about.”

  “Just knock at the door,” Edward said derisively. Jeremy did so and they were admitted by Bailey. He, however, was unaware that Emmaline had taken refuge with her thoughts in the garden and it took Jeremy some while to find her. Indeed, his temper was more than a little frayed by the time he and Hastings tracked her down by the roses.

  Emmaline had tried desperately to stifle her unease, but when she saw Jeremy arrive with a stranger, she knew it was no use. They paused, then came forward and Emmaline watched Jeremy grow paler as he approached her. She could not deceive herself that his expression held any happiness and Caroline’s words echoed in her ears. “Hallo, Emmaline,” Jeremy said with a determined smile. “May I present Edward Hastings, a good friend—in fact my dearest friend. Edward, this is my fiancée, Miss Delwyn.”<
br />
  Hastings bowed promptly. “Delighted, ma’am. Best wishes and all that.”

  “Thank you,” Emmaline said with a smile she did not feel. “Are you just come from London?”

  Hastings nodded. “Read the news and had to come see what it was all about.”

  “Jeremy’s betrothal being such a strange event?” Emmaline suggested cordially.

  “Exactly, I—” Hastings broke off in confusion as he realized where his tongue was headed.

  “It’s all right, Edward,” Jeremy said with a sharp laugh, “Miss Delwyn is noted for her quick wits.”

  “Here! I say, Jeremy,” Hastings remonstrated.

  It was Emmaline’s turn to laugh. “It’s all right, Mr. Hastings,” she said with a kindness she did not feel. After a pause, she added, “Jeremy, I do wish, however, that we might speak privately, for a few minutes.”

  Jeremy’s eyebrows rose in surprise but after a moment he bowed and said, “Of course. Shall we go into the parlor? Edward can continue to admire your garden.”

  “Wonderful garden,” Hastings agreed promptly. “Delighted to wait here for you.”

  “Thank you,” she told him warmly, then led the way inside.

  Once there, however, Emmaline set down the flower basket she was holding but could not seem to bring herself to speak. In the end it was Jeremy who broke the silence. “What is it, my dear?” he asked gently. “You seemed quite distressed just now, outside.”

  Almost undone by his kindness, Emmaline turned away, forcing herself to be resolute. Coolly she said, “You are an excellent actor, are you not, Jeremy? Did I not know better I should indeed think you were my devoted fiancé. But my father has admitted to me the circumstances of—of our betrothal. How devastated you must have been to be forced into something so distasteful to you.”

  Behind her Emmaline heard a sharp intake of breath. The coolness in his voice matched her own as Jeremy replied, “How unfortunate that he told you. May I ask what it is that you wish to tell me?”

  Emmaline turned to face him. In a softer voice she said, “Let us speak frankly, Jeremy, shall we? You are no more happy in our betrothal than I am, are you?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked warily.

  Emmaline looked at her hands. She was careful to keep her voice steady as she said, “I see very well how you flinch each time anyone asks about the wedding. And as I said, my father has told me everything. I cannot help but feel our betrothal was a mistake.” Jeremy’s face darkened and she hastened to add, “I have known you almost all of my life and yet we are all but strangers to one another. You don’t wish to marry me, nor am I at all certain I wish to marry you. That does not bode well for the future, I fear.”

  Jeremy stood quite still, conscious of a sense of shock. He had joked with Edward over the difficulties of finding a woman to marry him. The truth was, however, that he had never doubted that his title, wealth, and lineage would make him acceptable to any woman his choice should settle on. “I had thought you cared for me,” he said at last.

  He could not guess what it cost Emmaline to shrug and say lightly, “Ah, well, it seems I had mistaken my heart, as these last few days have so clearly shown me.”

  “Yes, well, what is that to say to the matter?” Jeremy asked roughly, turning away. “You say that your father told you my circumstances. We are betrothed and the reasons for that betrothal have not changed on my part. And there is still your father’s concern for you.”

  “So there is,” Emmaline agreed, looking at his back steadily. “That is what I wish to talk with you about. I know you are right, but Jeremy, surely you see that a marriage between us won’t work? What are we to do? If we break the betrothal your father will cut you off without a penny and mine—” Emmaline’s voice broke and it was a moment before she could go on. “Dr. Farley has told me he believes my father has no more than six months to live, and I cannot bear to risk that he might take a turn for the worse. Or that he should spend his last months in fear for me.”

  “Yes, well, at any rate we are fortunate in that your father insisted there be no immediate wedding,” Jeremy retorted. “Perhaps in time you will find I am not such an intolerable fellow, after all.”

  “Long or short betrothal, it is a mistake,” Emmaline persisted gently.

  There was a long silence. “What do you wish to do?” Jeremy asked stiffly.

  “Well, I had thought we might pretend we were still betrothed, but not be,” she answered forthrightly. “Just until my father ... until my father dies, or you find someone else to marry. You and I would know the truth, of course, but no one else,” Emmaline concluded quietly.

  “A masquerade?” he managed to ask at last.

  “Yes,” Emmaline agreed. “I know it sounds absurd but I can see no other answer. My only fear is that I shall prove a poor liar and my father will read the truth in my face.”

  For some time Barnett was silent, his eyes fixed on the view from the parlor window. At last he said, “He could not if you were not here. We could go to London. From there you could send back glowing reports of our betrothal.”

  “I cannot leave my father,” Emmaline said with quiet dignity. “Not when he is so ill.”

  Jeremy could not help but be aware of the determination in her voice, and after a moment he, said, “Give me some time to think about the matter, my dear. I promise I shall find us a solution. For the moment, however, let me go back out to the garden and find my friend before he thinks himself deserted.”

  “Of course,” she said at once. “I am needed in the kitchen anyway.”

  When she was out of sight, Jeremy found Hastings and began to talk urgently to his friend, putting forth a plan. Edward, with his usual amiability, readily agreed. A short time later, Jeremy was shown in to see Sir Osbert.

  “Good day, sir,” Jeremy said with genuine affection.

  The older man regarded him quizzically from beneath half-closed eyelids. “Hmmph. And what have you come to tell me about today? Trouble with your father again? Second thoughts about your betrothal to my Emmaline?”

  Jeremy shook his head. “No trouble, sir. Just a question. Do you think Emmaline has had sufficient time to look about her before she marries?”

  “What do you mean?” Sir Osbert asked testily.

  Taking a seat next to the older man’s bed, Jeremy said earnestly, “It seems to me that Emmaline has led far too sheltered a life here. And forgive me, but after your death she is likely to mourn for some time. I just thought that perhaps she ought to have a taste of London, now, before we are married. I should much dislike to have her feel, in later years, that had she seen London she might I have made a different choice. When she marries me, I should like her to feel sure that that is what she wishes to do.”

  For some time Sir Osbert was silent. Jeremy could not know it but his words had struck a resonant chord in the older man. He had had a good marriage, but those were indeed the words Catherine Delwyn had thrown up at her husband on the rare occasions they had been so uncivilized as to fight. In the end Sir Osbert placed a hand over Jeremy’s and said, “You are right, my boy, whatever your own motives in saying all this.”

  Jeremy had the grace to blush before he went on, “I’ve a friend, Edward Hastings, whose mother would be only too happy to have Emmaline come and stay with her. If you like, you could have such an invitation in hand by next week.”

  “You appear to have given this matter a great deal of thought,” Sir Osbert said. “Has Emmaline agreed?”

  Jeremy looked down at his hands. “I have only broached the matter in the briefest of terms, sir. You must know she has refused to leave your side. After all these years of nursing you she cannot bear to go.”

  Sir Osbert nodded. “Aye, especially since that fool of a doctor told her what he won’t tell me—that I’ve not got long to live.” He paused and cocked an eyebrow at Jeremy. “Some would say that she and I ought to spend that time together.”

  Jeremy took a deep breath and met Sir O
sbert’s eyes squarely. This time he spoke with perfect truth when he said, “Is that what you want, sir? Suppose the doctor is wrong? Suppose you have not six months but a year or two years? Emmaline has already given you the past three. How much more of her life is she to waste shut away in this house? I know you love her, sir. And that she loves you. And that if you die while she is in, London, she will grieve all the more. But at least she will have seen London and had the chance to dance and go to the theater and ride in the park. Would you deny her that? Hasn’t she a right to some life of her own?” He paused, then added, “She will not go unless you ask her to. Will you, Sir Osbert?”

  Slowly Delwyn nodded. “You are right, again, Jeremy. Emmaline is my daughter, not my wife. Sometimes I’ve forgotten, these past three years, that I ought to be seeing to her needs and not always the other way round. Very well. You get me that invitation, Jeremy, and I’ll see to it that Emmaline goes to London. But you’re to go as well, mind, and see that no harm comes to her. I’ll hold you to account on that!”

  “As you should, sir,” Jeremy said quietly, with a smile. “As you should.” Reluctantly he rose to his feet, “And now I must go and tell my father our plans. I fear he will not take the news as kindly as you have.”

  Sir Osbert caught Jeremy’s hand one more time. “He’s a good man, your father. Just caught up in his own pain all these years.”

  Bitterness touched Jeremy’s lips but in the end he nodded and Delwyn added with a twinkle in his eyes, “If he objects, refer him to me. I’ll let the old scoundrel trounce me at chess and then I’ll talk him round. You’ll have your visit to London, you and Emmaline, I promise it.”

  6

  Lord Barnett did indeed storm and rant and rave at his son, but in the end, he gave his assent to the trip to London. He could not deny his old friend, Sir Osbert, this request. Still, he took care to warn Jeremy, “If so much as one breath of scandal reaches me here, I shall be in London the next day to soundly thrash you!”

 

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